


The Principal's Office

by Selmak



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-07 09:20:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selmak/pseuds/Selmak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A follow up to “The Crush” where Phil Coulson speaks to each team member about recent events. As Skye describes it, being called into Phil’s office is akin to being called into The Principal’s Office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Crush](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030517) by [Selmak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selmak/pseuds/Selmak). 



A follow up to “The Crush” where Phil Coulson speaks to each team member about recent events. As Skye describes it, being called into Phil’s office is akin to being called into The Principal’s Office.

INTRO

The band is back together again.

 The first day back, Phil Coulson notices that there is a split among the team but he doesn’t say anything. He usually observes closely and then decides on a plan of attack. Snap judgments are well and good, but sometimes utterly wrong, and there’s time. Let the band shake out their issues and he’ll only get involved if it’s necessary.  On the second day, he categorizes the split as it’s more obvious that there is a serious amount of dysfunction occurring. FitzSimmons and Skye have always normally hung out together, but now staging occurs so Simmons is never without one of them. Ward is not part of their group, but he is tolerated if he arrives when they are in the kitchen or when they are playing board games.  However, he is not invited to their get-togethers or included in their conversations.

A mass evacuation occurs by FitzSimmons and Skye if Ward and May appear together. Both Fitz and Skye escort Simmons out of the room, one on each side of her, loudly chatting and being friendly.

If May shows, the trio just leaves. No conversation, no nothing. They just quickly leave.  They aren’t even discreet about it.   He knows Melinda May well enough to know that the shunning hurts her deeply.  Well, the old Melinda May would be hurt.

He’s also getting Jasper Sitwell for a few weeks as Hill is busy investigating the entire kidnapping incident.  However, Jasper is composed, reliable and a calming influence.  However, that means Jasper and Jemma on the same plane so he needs to speak to Jemma before the meeting.

He grabs the last two Tylenol from what he was sure had been a new bottle in his desk drawer. He’ll have to get more, and while he’s at it, he needs to get more Rolaids.

“Team meeting in thirty,” he announces on the intercom. “No excuses.”

Three, one and one are the sitting arrangements so Phil stands.

“I’ve scheduled one to one meetings for this afternoon for all team members. I’ll send out the schedule. Also for the next several weeks, we will have a temporary addition to the team.  You’re all familiar with Jasper Sitwell?”

He had managed to warn Simmons before he made the announcements. She had grimaced but she had accepted the news. Her smile looks forced, but at least she’s not cringing.

”Mr. February!” chirps Skye. She rummages for her phone and quickly thumbs through her pics. “Look at this eye candy, Simmons. It’s amazing that you could drag him because he’s solid muscle.”

“Oh my,” Simmons agrees after a long and thorough medical examination of Sitwell’s photo, while Phil keeps his face expressionless. He decides that he won’t ask her about her thoroughness later on as it would be ego-crushing.

Skye notices Ward’s facial expression so she chirps, “A girl could get drunk on his eight pack.”

SKYE

“Hi  AC!” Skye bubbles as she literally bounces into his office. “What’s up?”

“Just was wondering how were doing after everything?” He puts the question out and he’ll let her answer.

“I’m so glad FitzSimmons are back. I really am, as I was worried that the family was breaking apart,” she admits.

He gestures, “Go on,” with his fingers.

“I know I missed everything as I was kidnapped with Mr. February,” she begins.

“Actually, he’s the centerfold this calendar,” Phil inserts.

“Mr. Centerfold!” Skye laughs. “Must have been the sawed off shotgun. Can you get me a copy of the calendar? Speaking of which, how does SHIELD ... and a beefcake calendar?”

“No faces are shown, so if it’s falls into the wrong hands, they don’t see the faces. It’s a benefit for SHIELD dependants, so Fury looks the other way.”

“Those tats though,” Skye comments.

“Photoshopped away,” Phil explains while Skye’s eyes narrow.

“You know a great deal about this calendar,” she says.

He plays stupid but he hopes that she never locates the pictures of Mr. March 1989.   It hadn’t been a beefcake shot, but instead a picture of him undoing his tie.  Classy, but hot, he had been repeatedly assured by the ladies in the SHIELD Traffic Bureau where is still hangs over Millie’s desk. To keep his driver’s license pristine, he permits her more liberties than anyone else in his life.

Skye continues smiling and then she leans on his desk.

“AC? You and Jemma?” She gives an approving gesture and he shakes her head. “I’m cool with it, so is Fitz. Ward’s just Ward and completely blinded by sex with May.”

“You know about that?” Phil asks. Really, there are no secrets on a team that lives on a bus, but discretion would be nice. And probably old-fashion.

“Yes, I think Fitz describes it as Robo-Sex with Robo-Ward with Robo-May. But... May... Look, I understand that she’s your ex and all that and I have to add a disclaimer that she’s never liked me but really barging into your hotel room, waving gun? Did that really happen?” Skye shakes her head in disbelief. “That’s just nuts.”

“May likes you,” he protests.

“No, she tolerates me only because of you. If anything happens to you and you leave, she’ll slip me a mickey and drop me off in Eritrea. What I’m worried about is while I can handle her dislike, but Simmons is nice and sweet and all those things I’m not,” Skye easily admits.

“You’re wrong on all counts,” Phil inserts because he knows that Skye has a rather tough exterior but internally, not so much. “Except for Jemma being nice and sweet.”

“It’s the barging into the hotel room business. Was she trying to embarrass Simmons or was she trying to put in a position where you lost your cred with the team? Because, you didn’t lose any cred with me... and Fitz and I can’t figure out why she did it. Fitz said something about the fact that she was irked because it was a mock kidnapping, but... seriously... Ward and her pulling guns on you? And would you really organize a mock kidnapping after what happened with you and Simmons and not tell her? I mean, I got the fake note, so at least that’s why I played along with Jasper. The note did sound like you.”

Phil says nothing, because silence makes people uncomfortable. Skye feels the need to fill the silence.

“Sitwell, eh?”   She smiles and leans back.

“He’s just killing time in a moderately safe place until everything calms down.  To make himself useful he’s offered to teach you basic defense. He also promised me that he’ll get you to stop yelling ‘BANG’. It’s rather cute, but not very professional.”

Skye shifts so her hair is in her eyes. “You both heard?”

“Bang, bang, bang,” Phil dryly says. “Anyway, Sitwell should be on the bus shortly. He’s bringing his bike, but his luggage has already been put on board, so show him where to put his stuff, etc. He’s also willing to be a mentor to you as he wore the nanny bracelet for years. It’s up to you to decide, but please get him settled.”

“I get to be the Cruise Director?” Skye perks up and bounces away, while Phil wonders if he can mix Motrin and Tylenol. With a shot of whisky.

“Those two together are like unleashing the apocalypse.”

SITWELL – TRIUMPH ENTRANCE

Skye, being the Welcome Wagon, stands by Lola, ignoring May and Ward, who had just finished having sex, or some shit like that. At one time, Skye would have been willing to admit that she feared and respected May; that she had wanted May’s good opinion more than anything but now, it was just fuck that shit. Because May had embarrassed Coulson and Simmons, two people that Skye deeply cared for. It was a good thing that May hadn’t gone after Fitz because that would have required Skye to intervene, and hack her savings accounts and send it to some guy in Nigeria. Or perhaps buy thirty tones of sexual lubrication and have it sent to her and Mr. Tight Ass.

Since it was just AC and Jemma, Skye was quite sure that AC could handle it. However, if it had been Fitz? May would have learned that there is no fury like Skye unleashed on her checking account.

There was a sound of rolling thunder, which meant Jasper was arriving. His arrival didn’t fail to disappoint as the sheer volume and speed of his arrival earned him a disapproving look from RoboCouple. 

He parks the motorcycle, removes his helmet and Skye fangirls as it is a sweet ride.

“Mr. February, is that a Daytona 675R?” she gasps.  It’s a racing bike, barely street legal with the modifications he’s put into it and... it’s sweeeet.

“It is, Polka Dot Girl,” he agrees.

“I want a ride... on your bike,” she quickly adds. “Good thing I like you, else I’d file a complaint that you’re calling me Polka Dot Girl.”

“And the pictures of me on your cell phone? Did you show them to Simmons, who likes men who are her height but heavier?” Jasper smiles and Skye smiles back at him.

It’s easy talking to Jasper, because really, down deep, they’re the same, Skye realizes.  Both cast offs who wouldn’t have been given a chance, let alone a second chance, except for Coulson, and Jasper Sitwell succeeded. So scratch May off the list of people that Skye wants to be like, May’s been replaced by Jasper Sitwell.   Because he was once An AC Improvement Project and now he was **_respected and trusted_**.

 “Coulson speak to you about your training? I’m taking it over while I’m on the bus,” Jasper explains.

She snaps her fingers and points at him. “Bang, bang.”

“That is **_so_** being stopped by the time I leave. However, you need to show me around,” Jasper announces. He realizes that they have company so he turns serious. “Agents May, Ward.”

The three agents exchange pleasantries, while Skye watches. May looks dyspeptic, Ward uncertain and there’s Sitwell.  An agent who was quite aware that May and Ward had been watching his easy conversation with Skye but who had pretended that he hadn’t.

“Principal Coulson has team meetings all day,” Skye explains.

“He told me, so I’m to meet with him when he’s done with Agent May.  Until then, I’m yours,” he informs her.

“Follow me, Agent Sitwell,” she purrs.

“Jasper. My name is Jasper,” he insists.

MAY – WARD Interlude

“Sitwell?” Ward hisses at May.

May says nothing but she is not pleased. She knows Sitwell for years, knows his greatest assess is how easily he slides into the most difficult situations.  He’s a chameleon who adapts and gels with the most difficult teams.

“He’s taking over training Skye?” Ward asks.

“The principal didn’t permit us to go on the Boston field trip,” May reminds him.  The principal also hadn’t spoken to her about the real reason why Sitwell was on the bus.

Then again the principal really hadn’t spoken to her since she waved a gun in his face.

She had called his personal cell but he had already had it disconnected and he hadn’t given her the number to his new burner cell.

She had called his work cell and her calls had gone directly to voice mail.

Repeatedly.

Melinda May can take being shunned by the kids, but Phil Coulson shunning her is another matter altogether.

FITZ

Leo Fitz is the next person to visit Principal Coulson. 

“Are you staying on the team?” Coulson asks. “I’ve heard rumors but nothing definite from you.”

“Yes,” Leo Fitz says and Coulson relaxes.

“If you ever have a problem, please know that I have an open door for you,” Coulson says. “How are you with recent events?”

“I’m really happy for you and Simmons,” Fitz assures him.

Coulson smiles and shakes his head.

“Thank you. While I deeply appreciate the sentiment; I was rather hoping for an update on the issues between you and Ward?”

“He apologized, repeatedly,” was Fitz’s response.

“And?”  Phil prompts.

Fitz just shrugs and Coulson shakes his head. The apology has been repeatedly extended and that’s all he’s could ever hope. Finally, Phil stands, and offers a heartfelt, “Thank you for staying. I would have broken my promise for a better working environment if you had left.”

The Scottish engineer accepts his sincerity with a head  bob. Then as the two men leaves office, Fitz states, “I apologized to Simmons but I owe you one also. I’ m sorry but I told them it wasn’t a good idea.”

“You don’t owe me an apology,” the older agent insists.

“I tried to stop them, but they wouldn’t listen to me,” Fitz explains.  “I’m truly sorry about what happened.”

“As long as you apologized to Jemma, you don’t have to worry about me,” insists Coulson.

Fitz quirks a smile and Coulson sighs, “What?”

“The look on their faces when you pointed your gun at May. Seems that they both underestimated you,” Fitz quips before he laughs.

“It’s always better to be underestimated,” Coulson assures Fitz.

“I’m used to that,” Fitz admits.

“Not by me,” is the immediate response. “Not by me as I know how dangerous you are. Now, remember, you need anything, my door is open.”

“Don’t you have your meeting with Simmons next?” Fitz asks as they’re both leaving the office.

“I’m having it downstairs at the dining room table. She and I will not be alone on the bus if I can help it,” Coulson explains. “Since everyone has their idea of what happened in Boston, everyone will notice if we’re alone together on the bus and they will automatically think the worst. I won’t ruin her reputation among the team.”

“I still can’t understand how you and May got married,” the tactless Fitz admits. When Coulson keeps the door closed so Fitz can’t escape, Fitz realizes what he said. He says something rather rude in his heavy Scottish burr and Coulson still keeps the door close.

“Explain,” Coulson requests in a very mild tone. “Just between us, I want to hear your thoughts.”

He’s found, in his short time working with Fitz, which the Scot is not the keenest observer of others, because his skill is in engineering, not people. It’s something that Phil will work on, when he gets time.  However, if Fitz has noticed something and Phil hasn’t, well, he’ll take his input because it’s probably pretty obvious.

“I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have, but you **_get_** people. May doesn’t. I kept telling her and Ward that you wouldn’t have faked Skye’s kidnapping but they wouldn’t listen to me. You wouldn’t have done that, not after what  happened to Simmons. And what May does to Skye? I’ve witnessed her cutting Skye down, and it’s usually after she and Ward have either argued or done the deed or both. It was bad enough watching that, but I think now her victim is Simmons.”

“Is that why you and Skye are with her all the time?” Phil asks.

“So she’s not alone with May,” Fitz agrees.

“That’s not May,” Coulson insists. “She’s not like that.”

“You didn’t see the look on her face when she barged into your hotel room and she saw you and Simmons kissing,” Fitz says. “Not happy.  What confuses me most is that Simmons had kept telling me how May was so helpful after her ordeal. It’s the same woman that barged into your hotel room, brandishing a gun. If she had been a few minutes later, Simmons might not have been wearing her dress. Or you would have been tied up.”

Well, wonderful. Now everyone on the team knows that one of his kinks is to be restrained and seduced. He finds it pleasurable to give up control to someone he completely trusts, which had never ever been Camilla Reyes. Really, there had been only two lovers in his life that he has trusted enough to let them have that level of control over him and right now, Jemma was the only one.  Plus she couldn’t tie knots worth a good goddamn, but really... sometimes it was relaxing not to be in charge.

Plus, it had been a real confidence builder for Jemma who had worried about her supposed inexperience. 

“Thank you for your honesty,” Phil says.

“If you ever want some private time with Jemma, come down to the lab. I’ll work on something and everyone will know that you’re not alone with her,” Fitz offers. “You can’t have a decent relationship if you’re reduced to slipping into each other’s hotel rooms and bringing a bottle of scotch. It’s disrespectful.”

“I’ll make a suggestion to Ward that he goes through her window next time,” Coulson quips which earns him a laugh. “However I don’t get the impression that their relationship is that serious.”

“If it was just for a booty call, then why can I tell when they’ve had a disagreement? Why does May take it out on Skye or why does Ward beat the punching bag?” Fitz asks.

Because both of them are emotionally repressed as hell, but Phil’s too nice to say that out loud.

“Speaking of punching bags, Sitwell’s offering to teach defensive skills while he’s on board,” Phil continues, ignoring Fitz’s look of distaste. “It’s not what is trained in the academy; it’s a down and dirty defensive style, so take advantage of it.”

“Like throwing a bag of flour?” Fitz asks.

Phil nods.

THE TEAM AND SITWELL INTERLUDE

Simmons is sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for her meeting with Phil. She understands why Phil insists on public conversations with her, but it’s rather hard to grab a kiss. He’s strict about appearances, but it is part of his charm.

Meeting Jasper Sitwell again had been very awkward but the senior agent has been very pleasant. He had requested that she hold her hands above her head while they talked, just to confirm that they were empty. She had done so until she realized that he was teasing her. Skye poked him in the ribs with her elbow for that stunt.

Ward and May are in the kitchen but she is ignoring them, because she is not alone.

“Name five things you can quickly use as a weapon,” Sitwell requests from Skye.

“Knives...” Skye begins while Simmons watches.

“Quickly, not pardon me while I open the drawer and select a carving knife.”

“A bag of flour,” Simmons helpfully offers.

“That only works for Coulson,” protests Jasper. “However I will give you a point.”

 “That’s not a weapon,” protests Skye. “It’s for baking.”

“Throw it and if it breaks in their eyes they can’t see.  Hit them with it and you could knock them out cold,” Sitwell explains. “Let me give you a hint. Coffee pot, full of hot coffee. Throw the coffee at them. When the pot is empty, smash it carefully, so you have a weapon you can hold and do some serious damage. Salt and pepper shakers, whip it at them, and they’ll flinch. Then run like hell because you are not trained for more. Coulson, name the various items that can be used as a defensive weapon currently in the kitchen.”

“No one told me that there would be a quiz,” Coulson protests. He then crisply rattles off a list of the various kitchen utensils that have dual purpose. “Plus the carrot grater can be used to remove an eyeball if necessary.”

“Wow,” Skye quips while Simmons grimaces.

“It’s just a way of looking at the world,” Coulson replies. “Also please remember to thoroughly sterilize any items that you use for nefarious purposes as I don’t have enough of a budget to replace them. Sitwell, Fitz will be joining your class.”

“Great. We can start after dinner,” Sitwell announces. “Skye, can you show me where the gym is, and then you can show me what you can do.”

“Not a lot,” Skye loudly confesses which causes Ward to protest.

“I saw that in Massachusetts,” Sitwell agrees. “However, Coulson and I chalked it up as a lack of experience. You froze. It was a rook’s mistake, so let’s see what I can to ensure the next time it’s different.”

“What could I have done differently?” Skye asks.

“Hairspray. You must have some in your purse. Do you smoke?  A lighter and hairspray.” Sitwell sounds excited while Coulson groans and shakes his head.

“Not on the bus,” insists Coulson.  “Do not teach her how to create an explosive from a can of hairspray and a lighter in the plane.”

“He’s no fun,” Sitwell and Skye say in unison.

“You like Thai?” Sitwell asks.

“Love it,” Skye answers.

“If you can scrounge up an extra helmet, there’s a really good Thai place I know. I can pick some up and bring it back prior to our training class. Find out what Fitz likes and we can order it.”

“I can catch a ride?” Skye asks. Sitwell nods, so Skye continued, “I do have a license.”

“No,” Sitwell exclaims. “No, no, no. You can catch a ride on my ride, that’s it.”

“Simmons, are you ready for our meeting?” Coulson asks, as really he wants nothing more than to flee to his office and take more antacids before Fury calls him to bitch about whatever Sitwell and Skye had done together.

“Actually, I was wondering if we could we swap our meeting times?” Ward asks and Simmons agrees.

Great, his one ray of sunshine in a rather bleak afternoon has been commandeered by Ward. So he puts his foot down and says, “Sorry, no. There’s a reason why I put them in a specific order. Simmons? Shall we have the meeting here or in the lab?”

“Lab,” Simmons offers.

WARD – MAY INTERLUDE

 “What?” Ward as May who is giving him a disapproving look.

“Don’t push Coulson,” May advises. It’s pretty funny that advice is coming from her as Phil had told her not to talk to him until Friday but she had still called him every single day.

“Is Sitwell my replacement?” Ward asks May. The thought pains him, but he understands why it could be so. Sitwell is personable and friendly, highly regarded as a team player. Grant Ward is a pile of poop with daggers sticking in it. Or a porcupine.

“You are sadly mistaken, if, after recent events, you think Coulson is confiding anything to me.” May quietly admits.

“You two are...” Ward stops. “That’s not good.”

There’s no suitable answer for that comment, so she walks to the cockpit, as she needs to be alone.  Ward follows her, and for a moment, she’s overwhelmed by hatred.  Pure unadulterated hatred.

She hates Ward for clinging, hates Coulson, hates Simmons who wears a goofy smile whenever she sees Phil, hates ever leaving the Cellar and putting one damn foot on the bus, hates herself for caring and over-reacting by misreading the clues.  She hates remembering the look in Coulson’s eyes, when he was pointing his Beretta at her.

He had been beyond furious with her.

Not even when she served him the divorce papers had he looked like that. No, he had worn a look of weary defeat.

Deliberately she shuts the cockpit door on Ward, and locks it.

She can’t deal with him right now. She can’t even deal with herself.  It’s not unexpected that Coulson cancels their meeting for later that afternoon.  Even St. Phil has a breaking point, and Melinda May has crossed it.

SIMMONS

“We’re meeting in the lab?”  Simmons asks.

“Fitz will be there, so we’re chaperoned. Plus there’s glass so...” he stops.

“If we’re overwhelmed with passion, we’ll give everyone a free show,” Simmons bubbles.

He shakes his head and wonders anew what a young woman like her sees in him. Because even when he was young, he never had sex in a public place.

“Dinner tonight? I’ll order takeout and we can meet at my apartment?” he asks as they’re walking down the corridor. “Pick a movie and we can watch it. Chick flick is fine, you pick it.”

“As long as I can spend the night,” she counteroffers.

“We need to be careful,” he warns her as they enter the security of the lab. Fitz gives them an ‘all clear’ wave as he’s busy diagramming something that looks dangerous.

“I’ll leave early then and come back to my pod,” she pouts as they sit at a table.

Phil takes out paperwork and spreads it over the table.

“I’m glad that you’ve taken back your various resignations and reassignment requests,” he begins.

“Fantastic resigning bonus,” she chirps and then she sobers at Phil’s face. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. We just need to be careful. The team knows thanks to recent events, but I want to sure that we handle this in a professional basis.”

“Of course,” she agrees.

“Though I must confess that I’d rather be highly unprofessional with you,” he admits.

Her face lights up and she blushes even while she smiles. She’s adorable when she blushes so Phil decides that he needs to remember that.  They chat for a bit about various work related issues; how her sessions with Karla are going, his willingness to sit in on a session if Karla deems it beneficial.  Then Phil asks about what has been bothering him since they came back.  “I have a serious question. Have you been experiencing problems with May?”

Her smile fades and she bites her lip.

“What type of problems?” he prompts.

“After the HYDRA Hilton, she was really... kind... to me. I was surprised because... she acts like nothing bothers her. Yet, we’d have tea in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep and we’d have a chinwag.”

“That’s the real Melinda May,” Phil explains. “Not the Cavalry, not Agent May, but Melinda May. Not many people know that side of her.”

“Then the hotel room and... she embarrassed you in front of the team. They saw your scar and...”  Simmons slows. “But she wasn’t looking at your scar.”

“She’s seen it,” he admits, which probably isn’t the smartest thing to say, so he quickly ads. “As she visited me in the hospital.”

“She was looking at me.... and... I was afraid of her as she was furious,” Jemma admits. “I got the feeling that she was angry at me. Fitz agreed, so I’m not sure what I did. It’s been rather awkward on the bus with her these past two days, so I’ve just been trying to avoid her.”

 “You didn’t do anything,” Coulson insists. “Did anyone ever apologize for barging into the hotel room?”

“Fitz did.”

Damn the two of them, he’s had it with them both.  Phil scribbles down his address and gives it to Simmons. “This is my address. I’ll have to add you to the security system, so I’ll meet you there. I should be there in an hour or so.”

“Don’t you have two more meetings?” she asks.

“I’ll be quick,” he says.

Because really he has nothing to say to either of them. Ok, that’s a lie, as he has plenty to say, but none of it nice. After he leaves his meeting with Simmons, he reschedules both meetings for tomorrow as he needs to purchase more Tylenol and Rolaids.

And pick up a nice bottle of wine.

A bottle of Scotch is just so déclassé.


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angsty. Also thanks to halfaringcircus for the "Sheik of the Sheets" quip.

MELINDA MAY

Lately, when she dreams; she dreams in the color of red; of Bahrain and blood.

The old dream differs now, as she wields the Berserker Staff and no one stands against her, not for long. They scream and run from her, begging for leniency but there is no forgiveness in Melinda May’s heart.  The time for absolution has long passed. 

It’s now time for killing.

And if she takes great delight in killing someone that looks like Jemma Simmons, well, it’s understandable. Simmon’s an insipid lump of humanity; a school girl who crushes on a shattered man, her mindless adoration is why Coulson takes her to his bed. He seeks absolution in the only way he knows.  

Missionary position.

Naturally.

Skye is next. And the Hacker falls at her feet, and still sobs about finding her parents.

“Maybe you should just accept that your parents didn’t want anything to deal with you as you were a mistake,” Melinda says. “A huge mistake.”

Ward is easiest to kill as he believes that he’s Mr. Secret Agent. He falls while he whimpers about his big bad brother who was just so mean to him and his little brother.

“Pathetic,” she snaps.  “You were a lousy lay anyway. You failed your little brother and he died due to that.”

She storms through the bus and she finds Leo Fitz, hiding.  She smiles, as that means Phil is still out there and she looks forward to regaling him with the gory details on how his little dream team died, mewling like feeble kittens.  She knows the emotional trauma will shatter him anew. Then she’ll take her time killing him, and this time, he’ll stay dead.

And she plans to dance on his grave.

Naked.

“Little bear, you should never have left your lab,” she tells Leo.

For a wonder, he doesn’t panic, doesn’t weep or wail, he just looks at her with those big baby blues and he says, “I never liked you. I always thought you were fucking mental.”

His criticism stops her dead in her tracks for a moment.  Respects and fear is what her fellow agents give to her, never doubts about her sanity. Rather rude, she thinks.

“I’m **_crying_** ,” she says.

“You are,” he says as she raises the staff. For a wonder, Fitz just stares at her and doesn’t flinch when she kills him.   It’s a shame, that it’s only after he dies, and dies well, that she feels a grudging respect for the Scot.

Maybe she should have bedded him rather than Ward.

 And she wakes, and she’s horrified to realize that she is indeed, crying.

Since Phil was captured and tortured, the nightmares about Bahrain, about **_failing_** , have been a frequent companion. Lately though, there is a darkness and a hatred in her dreams that scares Melinda May to her very core, because the anger spills into her waking hours.

She had pulled a gun on Coulson because she thought he had mocked her trauma.

She had fucking pulled a gun on Coulson and for a moment, she had wanted so desperately to pull the trigger.

“Pull it together, May,” she snaps at herself. “Pull it together and do it quickly.”

The only person who understands her inner turmoil, who might be able to help her through this, is currently not accepting her phone calls.

WARD

Coulson is talking with Sitwell when Ward finally locates him.  They’re in the kitchen and Fitz and Skye are there, with the remains of takeout on the table. It seems the three musketeers went for takeout and didn’t invite him. Typical. Really it’s more than a bit annoying that he has to save them from their own stupidity, **_constantly_** , and they can’t be grateful.

What a bunch of unappreciative brats. Next time, they can save their own rears. Or Sitwell can, because the agent seems to have taken his spot on the team.

It’s an odd thought, he realizes.  It’s even odder than he’s angry about not being invited to their tea.

“Jasper, May’s in the cockpit, so you’re Senior Agent in Charge for now. You have my cell; call me if you need me. I need to run some errands,” Coulson explains.

“What about our meeting, Sir?” Ward asks.

“Rescheduled it for tomorrow,” Coulson easily admits.

“I would like to talk to you, **_today_** ,” Ward insists. He doesn’t even bother to hide his annoyance with Coulson.  That Coulson believes he can simply dismiss Ward and replace him with Sitwell.

“Tomorrow.”

“No, today,” Ward protests. The minute it leaves his mouth he realizes that he’s made a mistake. Skye flinches even while Sitwell motions for the trio to leave the kitchen.

Coulson speaks very quietly. “I understand that I have been a little lenient with you. However, when I tell you to jump, you will yell, ‘How high?’ When I tell you to do something, you do it. Because failure to do so is insubordination. I understand you’ve been a Lone Wolf for a while, but it’s over. Done.”

“You barged into my hotel room and pointed a gun at me. I told you that you had to apologize to Simmons for being an utter idiot and you have failed to do so.  Therefore, for tomorrow’s meeting, you will submit a report to me detailing why I shouldn’t kick your ass to the curb and find someone more willing to be part of the team.  And a hint, Grant, sleeping with the pilot isn’t sufficient reason for me to keep you. Because, as crushing this news will be to both your egos, you both can be replaced. **_Easily_**.”

Gone is the easy-going, mild-mannered Phil Coulson. No, instead Grant Ward realizes that he’s dealing with the iron willed man that threatened to tazer Tony Stark.

“You are on very thin ice with me,” Coulson informs Ward. “That report better be damn good. Another suggestion, don’t blame everything on the Big Bad Berserker stick. I’m seeing a bit of a pattern with you, Ward. I don’t particularly like what I’m seeing, so one warning. That’s it.”

They stare at each other and Coulson’s eyes narrow.  “Is there a problem, Agent?”

“No, Sir,” Ward states.

“And next time, you feel the urge to tell everyone about my personal life, you will refrain from doing so,” Coulson states in a very pleasant voice, which doesn’t fool Ward.

Coulson leaves and Ward is filled with an almost murderous rage. 

SIMMONS AND COULSON

“You’re early,” Jemma exclaims when Phil opens the door to his apartment. “Fast meetings?”

He invites her in and after closing the door, pulls her in for a long kiss.

“I canceled them,” he explains after they break for air. He then kisses her on her forehead and hugs her. “I would much rather spend quality time with you than deal with May and Ward. They’re both acting odd and I don’t have the energy to deal with them and entertain you. And I’d so much rather entertain you in assorted different ways.”

“I’m just so demanding,” she teases.

“No, you’re not,” he insists in a very serious tone. “If anything I’d wish you were a little more demanding so I could be sure I was making you happy.”

She pulls him by his collar so they’re at eye range. “I am happy. If I wasn’t, I’d let you know. Now show me around.”

Phil’s apartment is actually a small rowhouse, so it’s a quick tour. Everything is rather neat and tidy. She stops in the main living area as there are a few pictures on a crammed bookshelf. There is a rather large Captain America poster, vintage, that she notices on the far wall.   There is an American flag in a triangular case located near it and two shadow boxes of various military medals.

“Is this you?” She asks, as she picks up one photo.

“Yes, when my nose was straight and I was really young. That’s Gunnie,” he says, pointing to an older man who wore a high and tight. “That’s his wife, Rosie. That’s Lola, I think you know her. Gunnie owned her first.”

He hopes she doesn’t ask how young he was in the picture, because he was only a few years younger than she is. Would be rather awkward, but fortunately she puts the picture down.

“Middle Eastern takeout and wine?” She asks as she rummages through the various delectables . “Are you trying to get me tipsy and take advance of me?”

“I’m just trying to share the better things in life with you,” he admits. “I understand that wine in a box is considered classy. However, Gewurztraminer refuses to be tamed and put into a box. Also I have a small bottle of Dip rakisi. It’s an acquired taste.”

She laughs and he smiles.  It’s surprisingly...  **_easy ..._** with Simmons.  He’s never been particularly glib with the ladies, but Jemma laughs at his jokes. She’s open and affectionate, and... she makes him happy because she’s just... alive. What a remarkable woman, he thinks. She drinks from life like it’s a waterfall, even when the experience terrifies her, she won’t stop.

So since she wants to sit on the floor, like a picnic, he does so.  She wants him out of his suit so he changes into sweat pants and an old t-shirt. They snuggle next to each other and he feeds her various tidbits between stealing kisses.

He makes her try dried goat, and he tells her about the first time he had goat in the Middle East, thanks to Gunnie. It’s a long story, but she laughs in the right spots. Like he’s funny.  It’s amazing as nobody laughs at his jokes. Not since...  he shuts down that thought. Immediately.

Because it is still a raw wound. He never permits himself to think of that particular woman, even on the rare time when Phil listens to classical music.  Jazz is much safer for him, while he remembers Gunnie and his damn horn, but those memories aren’t as jagged.

“Since we’re having a mezze tonight, does that make you the Sheik of Sheets?” Simmons asks.

“I’m cutting you off, no more drinks for you.”

-=-

They make love, leisurely. After what Jemma knows to be an absolutely through, obscenely long time, all she can manage is a very soft, “Wow.”

“I want to give you happy memories,” Phil softly says. He smiles at her and gives her a one armed hug.  It’s important to him that Simmons comes out of this relationship with fond recollections because what they have.... it won’t last. He’s far too old for her and she has all of her life yet to live. It’s fun, he admits, to be able to share her reaction to new experiences. Not just the first time she made love, but Jemma’s exuberance as she sips really good champagne or drinks top shelf liquor.  Jazz, dancing, even eating goat jerky.

Well, it’s not just fun. It’s exhilarating.  It recharges his batteries and... her enthusiasm heals his soul.

“I don’t like the way that sounds,” Simmons protests.

He puts his finger over her lips. “I just want to see you smiling, when you think no one is watching you. I’ll wonder if you’re remembering Boston.”

“I wish I could spend the entire night,” she protests. “There, I’m being assertive and demanding. Plus I demand a kiss, right now.”

So Jemma commands him, so he must follow her orders. 

“You’ll get tired of me,” Coulson teases after they stop kissing. “If you spent the entire night with me, you’ll get tired of my snoring.”

“I could fix that, just a simple procedure,” she says.

He sits up in bed, and it’s a measure of how comfortable he is with her that he doesn’t try to hide his scar.  “I’ve seen you scope someone’s nose. It was utterly horrifying how gleeful you were about it. You’re not touching my nose.”

“Just a little procedure,” she insists as she gently touches his nose. “Could fix that little problem.”

“No,” he says. Then in a mock serious tone, he adds, “You fix my nose, you may want to fix other parts.”

She looks him up and down and her gaze lingers in a specific spot.

“No complaints,” she says. “Delightfully sized.  Wonderfully responsive.”

Deliberately, he covers his lap with a pillow and glares at her while she continues to prattle on and on with inane comments like “Hours of fun!”  “No assembly required!” “Batteries not needed as it’s self-powered.” His serious mien amuses her so she just stares back at him.  Then she adds, “Perfect for personal use or among friends.”

In his best Agent Phil Coulson voice, he says, “You’re not sharing me with your friends.”

They both burst out in laugher then.  Simmons leans towards Phil and she strokes his face. “I love to hear you laugh.”

“You’ll be the death of me,” Coulson insists.  

She shivers as though someone walks over her grave.

 “Not planning on going anywhere,” he assures her.

COULSON

Simmons stays in his bed for a time, content to cuddle, and then she decides it is time to be an adult. “I shall return to my pod where I will drift off to sleep as I’m absolutely exhausted.”

“You have my new cell if you need anything?” Phil asks. He’s already ‘suited up’ in his sweat and t-shirt so he’s deliciously rumpled with bed hair, but he hands her clothes. Neatly hung on a hanger so they’re wrinkle free.  He then sits on the bed and looks away so she can get dressed.

Such a gentleman.

“Yes,” she assures him.

“Don’t hesitate to call. Anytime. Right now, you’re the only person with that number,” he assures her.

“No one else?” Simmons asks.

“They commandeered my personal cell phone. Maybe a dozen people had the phone number,” Coulson explains to the wall.  “All people I trusted.”

“I’m dressed,” she announces and he turns to face her.

“You’re not,” he protests. 

“Just buttoning up my shirt,” she teases. “You’re adorable when you get flustered. Especially those dimples.”

Coulson gives her a very crooked smile and then he leans towards her. “I had a wonderful time.”

“Same here,” Jemma agrees.  “Do again soon?”

“Hope so,” he says. “I’ll try to plan something. Any suggestions?”

Her sincere response of ‘just time with you’ surprises him and he gives her that small smile with the dimples, where he tries not to show how he’s really feeling.

Phil escorts her to her car and he reminds her to call him if she needs him. No matter what the time, no matter the issue.   Jemma humors him as she believes that he’s being overly protective but she promises to call if necessary. Before she drives away, he again makes her promise to call.

That done, Phil Coulson returns back to his ‘home’.  It’s not a home, just a place for him to crash in-between missions, but maybe, he could make it nicer.  A dog would be great, as he had always wanted one when he was a kid but not very realistic. Plants would die; there must be something to do so his ‘home’ doesn’t look like a Mariott.  He does have Gunnie’s favorite Captain American poster framed and it hangs next to the various service medals that he and Gunnie had acquired, but his home is still rather sterile.

It’s thoughts for another day, as he’s exhausted.  He collapses in his bed, grabs the pillows and arranges them so he can smell Jemma’s perfume.  His last conscious thought is that he hopes for pleasant dreams. Naturally, it’s not to be.

_He’s walking in the bus, and Gunnie is standing next to him. The handler has dark hair and he’s ‘suited up’ in his black SHIELD fatigues, which denotes that Gunnie means business._

_“You know what needs to be done,” Gunnie states. “You need to lure her away from them.”_

_Since he’s died and has come back, the veil between life and death seems thinner, so dream visitations from Gunnie usually means that the fan is gonna be hit and hard. And soon._

_Phil nods and Gunnie gives him a long searching stare. “I’m always watching over you, kid. I won’t let Fury...not again. Never again.”_

_There’s a phone ringing, and the ring tone is “She Blinded Me with Science.”_

Coulson wakes and grabs his phone. “Simmons?”

“Phil....” Jemma’s voice is close to panicking, but she’s trying to remain calm.  “We need you on the bus. Ward.... Fitz tazered him and...  May’s.... May’s trying to kill us. Sitwell.... he locked us all in Medical but May....   I think she’s Berserking. ”

Phil puts on his sneakers and grabs his car keys.  With his SHIELD phone, he shuts down May and Ward’s access to the vital systems.

“Be there in ten,” he promises. “Let me talk to Jasper.”

 Jasper’s voice is calm, cool and collected but there’s a hint of tension. “Grant went after me. He went nuts and went after me, Coulson.  It was absolutely unbelievable as I saw when the chip blew in his mind. Thank God I did as I was prepared. Fitz tasered him six times after Skye hit with the coffee pot, and he’s in restraints in Medical, but May’s off the wall right now. We’re in lockdown in Medical and Simmons is running tests on Ward.”

“Is she after you?”  Phil asks, because why would May? Then again, why would Ward go after Sitwell?

“No, she’s after Skye and Simmons.”

“Call Elliot Randolph and find out if this is a side effect of the damn staff,” Coulson orders.  He hangs up and protests, “Damn in, Gunnie. What am I supposed to do now? It would have been nice if you warned me it was May.”


	3. 3

Simmons attempts to sneak into the bus after her assignation and Skye greets her with a smug smile.

"Let's have tea," Skye insists as she puts her arm around Jemma's arm and manhandles... womanhandles... simmons-naps her to the kitchen. "I want all the x-rated details about our favorite Asgardian sex god. Feel free to tell me everything. That is what friends do."

"Skye," Simmons protests. She blushes and shakes her head.

"Ok, we'll have a beer and have girl talk," chirps Skye. "I want to make sure he's treating you well."

"He is." Simmons stops walking and she smiles. "He is treating me so well, and he's just ... incredibly serious about everything being perfect for me."

"Uh oh," Skye says.

"Yes," Simmons admits as she slumps her shoulders. "He's making such an effort. He's being soooo..."

"AC." With that one word, Skye sums up the issue.

Simmons nods. "The sex is..." Jemma pauses and then whispers in Skye's ear. "Unbelievable but it's always focused towards me."

"Treasure that," Skye quips.

"I know, but... I want it good for him. I mean, I haven't..." Again, she whispers in Skye's ear. "I haven't gone down on him. Isn't that what all men want? I mean, when he does it to me it gets me so... I can't even **_think_**..."

She stops there as she won't mention how Phil watches her after... how he **_smiles_** in delight. There has to be some secrets!

"Has he asked? Given you any idea that he wants..." Skye asks. She gestures.

"No," protests Jemma.

"I'm sure he does. There's not any hot-blooded man out there that's gonna say no to that," Skye begins and then she stops at the look on Jemma's face. "What?"

"I'd like to..." Jemma wiggles her hands. "However, I'd like to have a technique better than 'She's clueless but enthusiastic'."

Skye's expressive eyes dance in true amusement. The look puts an icy fear into Jemma's heart. "No, no, no. I'm a nice girl! I'm not asking Agent Sitwell for his opinion."

The hacker looks hurt at Jemma's lack of faith; but not too hurt, as well, she understands that she was heavily involved in the entire Simmons shooting a superior office business. That only thanks to Coulson's long relationship with Sitwell, charges were dropped. "There's a dessert plantain in the fruit bowl in the kitchen. Besides, couldn't you ask Fitz for his input?"

If anything, Jemma Simmons looks even more horrified.

" ** _Fitz_**?" She squeaks. "FITZ?"

"You're besties," Skye reminds her of that universal constant.

"There are some things I just couldn't ask him," Jemma admits even as they enter the kitchen where Agent Sitwell examines the plantain that they had planned on utilizing for nefarious purposes and bad girl shenanigans. He sees them and shakes his head.

"Whenever you two are together, I feel this overwhelming need to get out my medical insurance card just so I won't have to search for it later," Sitwell admits. He pats his left pocket. "Wallet is there."

He pretends not to notice Jemma's attempts at fleeing and how Skye forces the other lady to sit at the kitchen table.

"Is that the only plantain?" Skye asks. "Jemma's never had one. She's not sure how to handle one."

She radiates sweet innocence; perhaps a watt too brightly as Jasper narrows his eyes even while he puts down the unpeeled plantain.

"It's a type of banana," he insists.

"Will you look at the time?" Jemma brightly inserts in a too cheerful tone. "I have completely lost track of the time. I must get some sleep as it's almost one in the morning."

She adds a fake yawn, which fools no one. No one at all.

"It's so sad how badly she lies," Jasper says. "However, what can you expect from Sci-Tech? I'm glad you and your polka dotted spots haven't rubbed off on her."

"I don't lie badly," Jemma Simmons protests while Skye laughs.

"You do," Skye insists with a giggle. "You are the worst liar ever, well, besides Fitz."

"I don't have a great deal of practice," she admits. "I'm proud of that."

She then attempts to flee from Sitwell and his pornographic plantain when she runs into Grant Ward and his muscular frame. She bounces back and apologizes, explains that she was just leaving to return back to her pod but Ward shakes his head.

"You don't have to kill the party because I showed up." His voice sounds strange, like he did after the entire Alien Rod of Rage business, and Jemma steps back one step. "You sound like you all having so much fun with your new team member."

Sitwell is a trained field agent, and surprisingly swift, as he positions himself in the middle of Simmons and Ward.

"No, I was just heading to my pod. I'm quite tired," Jemma announces over Sitwell's shoulder. "Good night."

"Sex with Coulson can't be that exhausting. He's pretty up there in years," Ward snarls. "Is it pity or the father figure bit? I can't really understand you and Coulson, Simmons. I thought you were smarter than that. It's just a midlife crisis, Simmons. The car is a dead giveaway."

"Hey, hey, **_hey_**. Watch it, Agent," Sitwell barks. "Have you been drinking? I highly suggest that you apologize, **_immediately_** , and go sleep it off."

"Or what?" Ward asks as he tries to tower over the slighter Sitwell. "You're gonna take my place on the team? Coulson must be happy to have his bad boy from the barrio working for him again. When is Coulson gonna have the cajones to tell me I'm off his team? Or is he gonna hide in his apartment?"

Ward throws a punch and Sitwell takes it, as his main concern is protecting Jemma. He pushes Simmons out of the line of the fire. While Ward advances, believing his height and weight advance over Sitwell will make it a fast fight, Skye throws in rapid and accurate succession, the benighted plantain and three oranges.

"Bitch," Ward roars even as he turns his attentions towards her. Sitwell launches himself at Ward and attempts a sleeper hold even while Skye throws the pot of lukewarm coffee in Ward's face. It's a temporary distraction as he has to wipe his eyes, but it's just enough so Sitwell can tighten his grasp.

"Run," barks Sitwell as the two men bounce into the refrigerator. However, Skye breaks the glass coffee pot carefully, so she has a weapon and Sitwell yells at her and Simmons to run.

"For the love of God, RUN!" Sitwell insists. "What are you doing, posing?"

"We need to get help," Simmons protests as she evacuates the kitchen by pulling Skye after her. "May?"

"Our choices are May and Fitz, and frankly May and Ward both have been acting cuckoo for cocoa puffs lately. Get Fitz, subdue RoboWard and then we have to call Coulson. Get Fitz, he sleeps with his toys; he must have something to knock out Ward. I'm going back in, I've got hairspray and a lighter and I'm not afraid to use them," Skye insists.

"Don't blow up the bus. Coulson will be pissed!" Jemma reminds her as blowing up the bus would just be the icing on the bloody fairy cakes. Or whatever they called them in the States.

Simmons runs for Fitz who fortunately is very much a night owl. He also possesses the prototype in his pod that he's been working on just in case they meet with any Centipede soldiers.

"I'm not sure if this will work or not," protests Fitz as the two of them races in the wrong direction, towards the kitchen.

Fitz arrives just as Sitwell flies across the room and hits the wall hard. It's an open shot at Ward, clear as it will ever be, so he aims and pulls the trigger. Not once, not twice, but five times while Ward stumbles toward him. Another orange is not thrown, but instead, Simmons rolls it toward Ward. He focuses completely on Fitz and the taser, so he slips and falls due to an orange. Skye then drops the entire selection of fresh fruit on his head.

"Good job," Sitwell announces while he looks at the twitching Ward. "Nothing like a drive by fruiting. Now let's get him to medical. However, I better speak with May."

"Don't," Skye quickly inserts. "May's acting odd. By odd, I mean... **_odd_**."

Sitwell stares at her and mentally throws up the white flag of surrender. He's been 'nite-nite'd, kidnapped, stripped to his boxers and thrown into a fridge all due to the members of Coulson's team. Meanwhile, Ward is drooling and twitching and ... Sitwell is the only one that can move him. Fitz, Simmons and Skye give quite the mighty effort, but no luck. Sitwell mutters something rather rude before he hands his pistol to Skye. "Don't say, 'Bang'."

However the idea that he has to carry Ward's body to Medical while trying to escape a possibly crazed Melinda May and leading the three musketeers to safety?

Coulson owes him big.

BIG.

"I hate dealing with your team," Sitwell snaps. "It's worse than dealing with Tony Stark. He's just a narcissistic alcoholic, but your team is bat shit crazy."

* * *

 

The trip to medical takes twice as long as it should, even considering that Sitwell drags Ward. There are little May traps set throughout the bus, which causes them to have to carefully place every foot just so. For Jemma, it's almost unbearable as May targets her with thinly veiled threats and acidic comments regarding Coulson.

_It's a pity fuck, Simmons. He'll get bored of your inanity soon enough. He probably already is dreadfully bored; as well, you didn't spend the night at his apartment._

Fortunately, Ward is coherent enough to get onto the exam tables under his own power, and not coherent enough to put up a protest when he's put in five point restraints.

Jemma wishes not to think about May's comment, as the older Agent's obviously ill, but the little mocking voice gets under her skin and rubs her raw even while she draws blood from Ward.

"What the hell is going on?" Ward asks Simmons. He is groggy and his voice is quite slurred. "Why am I tied down? Why do I smell of coffee and ripe bananas?"

"Plantain," Simmons informs him in a very snippy tone. "I had absolutely delicious plans for that plantain that didn't include it being used as a projectile because you went all... barmy in the head."

She is not happy, and perhaps she puts a little too much force on the needle when she starts his IV, but Ward is a big boy. He'd get over it. And while Jemma Simmons is a nice girl, this incident has far surpassed her limits.

"Can someone translate?" Ward plaintively asks. "And not you, Fitz, because you looked pissed."

Skye hops to where Ward is restrained and smiles.

"You were an asshole of Asgardian proportions. You look up the God of Asgardian Assholes, there you be," Skye snaps. "Coulson is gonna be so pissed, when he realizes that you broke the fridge."

"How?" Ward asks in a very quiet voice.

"You'll see the dent from my head," Sitwell growls. He self-medicates with an ice pack while he secures Medical from Melinda May.

"Come now, Big Bad Agent Ward isn't scared of Rickety Coulson. After all, as you remarked, he's up there in years," Simmons snaps as she injects medication into the IV port. "What's he gonna do; hit you with his walker? Slice your throat with his Medicare card?"

"Oh God, he didn't hear that did he?" Ward asks. Then he looks at his arm, and then glances at Simmons. "What are you putting in the IV?"

"A nice big sedative," Simmons says. "Nighty, night."

"But... but..." Ward protests.

"We don't need _**you**_ to protect us from **_you_**. We've got Fitz and his Taser," Skye says.

"You Tased me!" Ward again protests at this final betrayal; from the Scottish Engineer no less.

"Enjoyed it, too," Fitz admits. "The way you went..." Fitz gives a very vivid physical demonstration of Ward being tased. Or perhaps an interpretive dance, but there's a great deal of arm waving and body shaking that occurs. "I hope I got it on video. I'm goin' to watch it over and over again. Perhaps send it out along with my Christmas cards this year."

"Where's May? Is she letting you do this?" Ward protests.

"Her picture's next to yours," Skye says. "She's foaming and trying to kill us. Fortunately, Sitwell's here to defend us from our team."

"Get Coulson," Ward mumbles. "He knows her, knows her well enough to beat her."

"We'll your recommendation into consideration, Agent," Sitwell growls. He then leans over the restrained Ward. "We'll talk about this later."

"I didn't hurt anyone, did I?" Ward whispers. He looks stricken. "I can't remember anything except being really angry. Did I hurt you?"

"No one got physically hurt." Sitwell's voice is soft and calming. "I've got a very hard head as Coulson reminds me every chance he gets. What's the last thing you remember?"

"You kidnapped Skye because of Coulson," Ward says. "He wanted us to work as a team. It was a team building exercise, which seems to have worked really well."

He pulls at the restraints and then glares. "Really well."

"You're missing the last week, Agent. You attacked me in the kitchen, not even an hour ago. There was no provocation, no warning, you just went crazy. Simmons, please call Coulson," Sitwell decides.

God, how he hates Coulson's team.

* * *

 

Simmons calls Coulson and thankfully, he answers almost immediately.

"Simmons?" he asks. He sounds as though she woke him, which she regrets but what can she do? Everyone's gone to hell, May's running with scissors, Ward is tied up like a Christmas present.

"Phil..." Jemma's voice is close to panicking, but she's tries to remain calm. "We need you on the bus. Ward... Fitz tasered him and... May's... May's trying to kill us. Sitwell... he locked us all in Medical but May... I think she's Berserking. "

She won't mention the personal messages for her from May. She won't, as there's enough occurring.

There's a sharp inhalation from Coulson.

"Be there in ten," he promises. "Let me talk to Jasper."

"Coulson wants to talk to you," she says. She hands her phone to Jasper who begins to talk.

Jasper's voice is calm, cool and collected but there's a hint of tension. "Grant went after me. He went nuts and went after me, Coulson. It was absolutely unbelievable as I saw when the chip blew in his mind. Thank God I did, as I was prepared. Fitz tasered him six times after Skye hit him with the coffee pot, and he's in restraints in Medical, but May's off the wall right now. We're in lockdown in Medical and Simmons is running tests on Ward."

Phil asks a question as Jasper listens. Then Jasper whispers, "No, she's after Skye and Simmons."

Jasper listens again and then tells Skye to call Elliot Randolph.

* * *

 

On the way to the Bus, Coulson breaks a few traffic laws, but he slows down once he gets to the air field. Now is not the time for rash actions, because Melinda May knows him pretty damn well. She knows his weakness and his strengths, but he also knows hers.

She's got several black belts... and he's not wearing one. Nope, he's wearing his favorite ratty pair of sneakers, sweatpants and a battered t-shirt.

No socks.

No underwear either.

All in all, a high potential for major embarrassment when she wipes the floor with him. Because, he knows that she's really not going after Skye and Jemma. No, she's attacking his weak spots, so he'll be forced to respond. If this May Madness is due to the Asgardian stick, she'll try to kill him, which will give her an advantage, as he'll be working to merely disarm her.

Because physically, he's never been her match.

However, Melinda May has always been the brawn, not the brain in their operations. He also knows how to get her so unbelievably angry that she'll throw caution to the wind. Really, it's the only way he'll survive, if he pisses her off enough so she Hulks out.

Jasper calls, and reveals that Elliot Randolph was a mine of information that he had neglected to mention earlier. The Asgardian warriors would think it funny to give a human the staff just to watch them freak. And if they survived the ordeal, well, the human would have a relapse of the rage sans insanity stick after a few months as it got into their blood.

God, he hates Asgardians

He taps out two quick text messages, quite possibly, the last two text messages of his life. One to Melinda May, one to Jemma Simmons. They'll be sent out in an hour.

That done, he takes a deep breath and exhales.

"I'm so beyond dead," he says. He refuses to even acknowledge that he **_knows_** Gunnie is laughing.

He gets out of the car, brandishing an empty shot gun as he won't risk shooting May, plus he has a tranquilizer gun. He puts on his earphone and keys it so he's on the intercom of the Bus.

"Mindy, baby," he calls, as Melinda May hates being called Mindy. "Mindy, **_Mindy_** , I know you're jealous, but really, Mindy. It's so long over between us, Mindy. You can't blame me for moving on, Mindy. Jealously doesn't suit you."

That done, he clicks off the intercom.

It's time for Mad Eye's last fight.

 _Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus_.

Latin for Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon.

Well, May Eye Coulson had just kicked this particular sleeping dragon in her teeth.


	4. 4

“Did he just call May, **_Mindy_**?” Skye asks. She whistles in stunned disbelief at Coulson’s bravo.

“Coulson is locking down various corridors,” Fitz announces as he pokes various schematics.  Then the schematics brightly flares before it darkens, “What the hell?”

“Coulson’s locking down the system, and he’s not only locked May out, he’s locked us out.  He wants us in here, not out there, as we’re less likely to get hurt,” Sitwell explains. “Polka dots?”

“I’ll see if I can hack it,” Skye promises.

“Be quick, Coulson may need help.” Sitwell’s a trained agent, and he slips easily into running the operation.

Simmons’ cell phone rings and she answers it.

“Simmons,” Coulson’s voice is calm as though he isn’t facing a rampaging Melinda May. “Talk to me. Ward?”

“He’s been tasered, restrained and sedated. Claims that he doesn’t remember anything in the last week or so. I’ve drawn bloods and running various tests.”  She keeps her voice professional.

In the background, Ward claims that really, he doesn’t remember anything.

“Keep him restrained. If everything goes south and you think you can trust him to behave, you can release him. Are you alright? You seem...” Coulson slows.  “Are you angry with me?”

She isn’t angry with him, but it’s complicated. May’s  words have scored on her bit too deeply and May’s Coulson’s ex-wife and it’s been **_new_** between Jemma and Coulson for one week, and why did May have to ruin it by reminding Jemma of all her insecurities?

“Just everything,” she says, which is the truth.

“Just wanted to be sure it wasn’t me,” he explains. “I’m going after May. I want everyone to stay in Medical until it’s over.  That way everyone will be safe as this... promises... to be messy. May’s allergic to valium so when you sedate her please remember that.”

“I will,” she promises. Just another example of how well the two senior agents know each other; he knows May’s medication history.

Silence.

“Tell Sitwell not to involve SHIELD unless there is no other option,” he requests. “For now, it’s just our team.”

“I will tell him,” she promises.

Again silence.

Finally, Phil speaks very softly and hesitantly as though he’s uncertain of her reaction, “I really enjoyed our time together last night. I did.”

“I did also,” she assures him.

“I’m glad.”

He hangs up and Jemma updates Sitwell on what he needs to know. Sitwell takes it all in and then nods.

“We can’t leave Phil to deal with May. She’ll crucify him, especially since she’s absolutely nuts,” Skye insists. “He doesn’t have a chance.”

Fitz loudly agrees on the upcoming Coulson Catastrophe aka May Massacre and Jemma tries not to worrry. Sitwell just shakes his head.

“They must talk about the Army Ranger and San Marco incident in the Academy still?”  Sitwell asks.  “You don’t know who the Ranger was?”

“Absolutely amazing, this Army Ranger took out...” a blitzed Ward begins.

“An entire Hydra Base,” Fitz begins and then he stops at Sitwell’s head nods.

“Coulson, at twenty years of age, not even a SHIELD recruit at the time, took out a HYDRA base. SHIELD couldn’t let his talent get lost in Army, so they stole him. He was trained not just at the Academy but by the very dangerous duo of Andrew St. John and Timothy Aloysius Dugan who taught Coulson everything they knew and I do mean **_everything_**. Just because he looks like an accountant, do not be fooled. He babysat the Avengers after all. He went mano a dios with Loki after all.”

Skye looks at the awe struck expression on the various SHIELD agents, realizes that she had skipped that class and she waves her hand. When called upon, she chirps, “Teacher, I missed the Introduction to SHIELD 101 class.”

“Look up BAMF in the dictionary, you’ll see their pictures,” explains Sitwell.  “Gunnie and Dum Dum were Howling Commandos.”

He sighs at Skye’s confusion.

“They were Cap’s boys. Steve Rogers?”

“Heard of him!” She happily announces.

“So, the train incident in Manchuria?” Fitz asks.

“Coulson,” Sitwell responds. “As was the Paris and the anthrax, Quebec and the bomb and a few dozen others. If he thinks he can take Melinda May out by himself, then he can. However, we should be prepared to move quickly just in case someone needs medical assistance. Keep hacking the system.”

“But his nickname is ‘Cheese’,” Fitz protests.

“Cheese?” mouths Skye. “As in Cheddar Cheese?”

“Sometimes, the legends behind the nickname become so overblown that people... Like the Cavalry?”  Sitwell attempts to explain but fails. “The Ranger became Cheese because Phil can’t tell a joke and he hated living up to that Nickname. Phillie Cheese steak sandwich? That and the beefcake calendar spread.”

“He was in the calendar?” Skye asks. “Can I get a copy? It’s for Jemma. Really.”

-=-=

The unholy rage that wears Melinda May’s face keys the intercom.  “You look tired, Phil.  Simmons too much for you?” She catcalls.

He never answers, as he’s busy disabling the system so she’s cut off.  Too bad for Phil that she already has a work around. He’s nothing if not sadly, pathetically predictable. The Rage is content to sit and wait. It would be too easy to pick off Clouson as he enters via the cargo bay ramp. Where’s the challenge in that? No, she wants to place the sharp needles just so under his skin and to prolong the pain until he breaks.

Somewhere down deep, Melinda May screams a futile protest.

-=-

Fifteen minutes later.

“Simmons,” Jasper Sitwell interrupts her mental flagellation. “Ward seems to sturdier mentally and less inclined to kill me. I’m taking this as a good sign. Is this because he was zapped by the Taser?  It’s a kind of Electroconvulsive therapy. Right?”

She looks at him blankly. Sitwell prides himself on being constantly understimated, but sometimes, it gets rather annoying.

“How are his serotonin and benzodiazepine levels?” Sitwell prompts.

“They are in the same approximate range as they were two weeks post berserker staff,” Simmons explains.

“Can you come up with something that can be used as a tranquilizer base that will jump start her levels? Would it be in liquid or gaseous state? Gas would be easier as we could pipe it through the air vents.”

“It would have to be liquid,” Simmons explains. “Room temperature would cause it to be in a gaseous state.”

“Which means either a tranq gun or some fool getting close enough to jab her. Probably means me. Fitz? Work with Simmons to develop a payload delivery method,” Sitwell orders. “Polka Dots?”

She makes a face at him, and he laughs.    

“Working on over-riding the system,” she advises.

“Try this,” was his response as he taps several keys. “We may get voice back to confirm that Phil is still out there. I’d prefer video.”

“Interesting way of hacking the system. You can talk shop with Simmons, hack computer systems and you’re the centerfold. You are a man of many contradictions,” Skye admits.  “Plus the gang signs?”

“It’s pretty well know story. Kid from the hood tried to pick pocket this easy mark. Got the wallet, ran like hell, and the easy mark caught me when I tried climbing a fire escape. Instead of turning me into the cops, he bought me lunch, offered me a chance. Took it. I’d probably be dead in a gutter or in jail serving life if it wasn’t for him,” Jasper admits his past easily. “I owe him.”

“Physically, my money is on May, however Coulson gets people. He knows what makes people tick, so he’s probably vivisecting May’s psyche right now as an enraged May will make mistakes. It will be ugly and brutal, because psychological warfare is never pretty. Coulson is a master of it because ...” Sitwell snaps his mouth shut. “Not my story to tell except that he had a very rough childhood. He learned early on that words have power.”

“Coulson? He’s just so...” Skye stops. “Mild-mannered.”

“Coulson has a temper. He just keeps it very tightly locked down.”

Skye appears shocked and Sitwell nods.

“Do not put their conversation on speaker, because it will be very ugly,” Sitwell explains. “Let me know and I will listen.”

She quirks an eyebrow.

“It shouldn’t be broadcasted.”   

-=-

He creeps through the cargo hold, looks for May and her various traps. There weren’t any, which means she was leading him to the slaughter. Typical. Single minded focus all too often leads to predictability.

“Come on, Mindy.”  He catcalls.

“Don’t call me Mindy,” she snarls.

“Baby, why you being so cruel?” His tone is honeyed and he gets the reaction he anticipates.

“Don’t call me baby,” her disembodied voice snaps.

There’s a trip wire, rather obvious one, which he doesn’t trust.  Melinda is many, many things, but sloppy? Never.

He looks at it, hears Gunnie in his head. “ _An obvious trap is still a trap, kid_. _And something that obvious deserves a second look, and a third and fourth._ ”

A closer look reveals a second, and only on the fourth examination, he sees the third trap.

“That’s my May,” he whispers. “Just wish we were on the same side.”

He avoids them and continues on. However, after he almost leaves the room, he takes a broom and deliberately triggers the third trap. Just to see what nasty tricks Melinda has played. His reward is an arc of electricity, which he guestimates would be enough to knock him out. Not kill him, but enough to render him extremely vulnerable. And he’s commando. Fucking wonderful. May desires to hurt him. Slowly. Painfully.  But he doesn’t know why.  Well, besides the Asgarian Anger bit, but why is it focused on him?

“Why are you jealous, baby?” He calls.  Really, he’s never ever call Melinda  ‘Mindy’ or ‘Baby’ even once in his life, but he had witnessed the only man  (up to now) stupid enough to do so. May had flipped him over a table and then she had faced Coulson who had been eating his lunch. 

“Do you have something to add?” She had snapped.

“Would you like me to hold your jacket next time?” had been his response.

Now, if he was Melinda May, who knew Phil Coulson extremely well, all his personal quirks, foibles and pet peeves, where would he be? Someplace located high off the ground because Phil Coulson dislikes heights.  He has jumped out of planes, rappelled down a few skyscrapers, and even rescued a neighbor’s cat out of a tree but he prefers to have feet firmly on the ground.  As opposed to looking down at the ground.

Though flying doesn’t bother him.  

Weird, he admits.

“Cat walk. I hate the cat walk,” he announces to the uncaring world.

-=-

A wild-eyed Melinda May stares at him. She’s too far away to be tasered, but he has a plan, a risky plan considering they’re on a catwalk.  He also has pushed all of her buttons, her weaknesses, her barely healed wounds and Melinda May **_rages_**. 

“Let’s get you some help, Melinda. You know you need help, let me help you,” he encourages. “This anger isn’t you.”

Somewhere down deep, he believes that Melinda May is fighting to regain control.  He hopes that his voice reaches that spark she regains control.  His other plan risks pushing Melinda May to the edge of insanity, and he hates what he's doing.

“It is,” she simply says. “The anger is part of me, ever since Bahrain. And I’m familiar with your ‘help’.”

“I disagree.” Phil keeps his voice soft because he notices that there’s a tightness in her stance. It means she’s about to attack. “You never let me help you.  You pushed me away over and over and over again. I finally got tired of you shutting me out.  I begged you to let me in, to talk to me but you wouldn’t,” he reminds her.

Her bitter laugh lashes at his soul, because he had tried so damn hard after Bahrain.

“All you did was talk, talk, talk, talk; don’t you get tired of the sound of your own voice?  That’s all I remember about you after Bahrain. Talk to me, Melinda. Talk to me.”   She mocks him and it fucking hurts, because he remembers how he did everything the psychologist said to do. Give her space, give her time, give her assurance that he was there.

Two can play that game.

“Funny, all I remember after Bahrain was having sex with a corpse. I’m assuming you’ve gotten livelier now that you and Ward have hooked up. Then again, he’s a bit of a robot also. ”

He anticipates the angle kick, that her attacks targets his chest where his scar is.  He twists just so, catches her foot, a one in a billion catch and forces her to follow his slide steps.  He knew those dance lessons would come in handy one day, but perhaps, this wasn’t the tango that the teacher had in mind.  A twist and a turn causes May to stumble so he releases her even as he tasers her.

Once.  She continues to advance.

Twice.  She stumbles but she is not stopping.

Three times.  Part of him dies inside, but then, he was always the weaker of the two.

Four.                                                                                                                                              

“Phil?” she whispers as she stumbles and slips, dangerously close to the edge of the catwalk.

He reacts; He can’t help himself; May has always been his Achilles' heel. Because he will not let her fall. She recovers quickly and then she deliberately pushes him off the catwalk. He’s able to taser her again for old time’s sake even while he hears Gunnie scream at him to relax his muscles, not to tense up.  It’s maybe a fifteen foot drop to the floor of the cargo bay floor but his life flashes before his eyes.

_His father’s death when he was five. His mother’s depression so deep and vast that it swallows her. The first of countless family members who took him because there was no one else.  He joins the Army the day he graduated from high school. The dark day when his brothers die in the HYDRA compound.  His time at the SHIELD Ops Academy where he was the outsider as he didn’t fit in with the other cadets. The first time he met Melinda May._

_Bahrain._

_The divorce._

_The cellist. Oh God, the cellist._

_An alien with Daddy issues who rams him through the heart with an Asgardian scepter.  Dying, death and rebirth. The screams of a broken man begging for death._

_That night in Boston._

_“Jemma?”  They’re almost at the point of no return for him and he worries. Not that he wouldn’t stop, because he would, immediately, but he worries that she’d feel obligated... or pressured... “We can... still stop... if you want.” He assures her. “I won’t be angry. We don’t have to go any further.”_

_She looks utterly and deliciously debauched.  As well she should as he had used every trick he knew..._

_“But I don’t want you to stop.” She says even while she places her hands on his shoulders. “I really don’t want you to stop.”_

_“I’ll go slow,” he promises._

_“Are you reassuring me or yourself?” God, her voice has such a happy lilt to it. He could listen to it for ever and ever._

_“I think it’s myself,” he admits._

_“You’re so cute when you’re protective,” she teases. She shifts slightly so she’s positioned differently.  At his questioning look, she explains, “I want to see you when you...” she bites her lip and smiles._

_“Don’t laugh if I make a face,” he pleads._

_“I want a face. I want a really memorable face,” she teases._

_He embraces her.... carefully.... and then she whispers, “Oh, Phil....”  and..._

He hits the hood of the SHIELD truck with a loud crunch of metal. Something inside him breaks and it hurts.  But he’s not alone as his guardian ghost has arrived.  There’s a short man wearing a suit and tie combined with a flak jacket, who holds out his hands to show that they’re empty.

“Gunnie?” he mouths.

“You can stand down. You’ve done good, kid. Let go, kid. Let go. You saved May, so let go.”

He does so, gratefully, even while someone... Melinda?... screams his name.

-=-

She takes pride in her hacker skills, but AC has really fubar’d the system. One hack leads to a dead end, and Sitwell offers suggestions on what to try as he knows Coulson’s style in sabotage.  At last the video is restored, enabling Sitwell and Skye to watch as Coulson falls... is pushed... from the cat walk.  Meanwhile, May shrilly screams his name and Sitwell lowers the volume.

“Coulson’s down,” snaps Sitwell. “As in down on the hood of the truck in the cargo bay. May’s on the catwalk. He’s moving a little. Simmons, stay here. Fitz, Skye you’re with me. I’ll let you know when the scene is secured, Simmons. Do not leave before then.”

Simmons is a good girl, so she waits until the trio left Medical. She doesn’t want them to worry about her. However, like bloody hell is she staying behind. Simmons grabs the jump kit plus a tranq gun. She ignores Ward who requests that she releases him so he can help.

“I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you for your earlier help,” she snips as she leaves Medical at a run.

She knows the various shortcuts in the Bus and she arrives at the cargo bay before Sitwell and his strike force of Fitz and Sky. It’s a good thing she did as May is standing next to the truck and she’s reaching towards Coulson, who is lying supine on the hood of the truck.

“Phil,” May whispers. “Phil? Talk to me, please.”

May is just so absorbed that she doesn’t notice Jemma Simmons.  Jemma puts on her big girl pants and taps Melinda May on the shoulder. May twirls about and Jemma puts all her weight behind a powerful slap.  It’s delightful to see Melinda May stagger.

“Kneel on the floor and put your hands up in the air where I can see them,” Jemma orders. Any other time she’d laugh in sheer disbelief that ½ of FitzSimmons has bitch-slapped the Cavalry.

“Simmons, you need to check on Coulson. What happened?” May asks. She looks confused and horrified.

“ ** _You_** ,” Simmons snaps. “ ** _You happened_**.”

“He’s not moving,” May explains.

“Put your hands up where I can see them,” she orders again.  “Don’t make me use this on you.”

“Simmons, you’re holding a pen,” May informs her.

“Well, you don’t want to experience firsthand what I can do with it. I’ll check on Coulson and you stay there. Or I will use the pen.”

Fortunately, Sitwell arrives then, so she can turn over her prisoner.

“If you can take May out with a pen, maybe I shouldn’t feel so bad,” Sitwell announces. “Maybe you should have gone in Ops. May, I’ll need you to agree to come along with me so we can do some tests.”

Jemma doesn’t say anything as she’s busy examining Phil. He rouses enough to whisper something to her but she can’t hear him.

-=-=

He’s lying on the hood of the truck and everyone is screaming at him to open his eyes. He does, and he manages to focus on Simmons. “Hey,” he whispers. “Get my text?”

She talks to him, tries to reassure him and he can’t understand her.

“Today was a perfect day. You made me forget myself; I thought I was someone else, someone good.”

Hopefully, she heard him. He closes his eyes and drifts away.

-=-=

Melinda’s phone vibrates and Jasper picks it off the floor. He looks at it, and shakes his head while Simmons starts to stabilize Coulson.

“What?” Skye asks.

“It’s from Phil.  He sent her a delayed text, ‘Regardless of what happens in the next hour, I do not hold Melinda May accountable for her actions. She is under the influence of alien technology.  I would recommend that SHIELD view her behavior along with Grant Ward’s misconduct as a temporary aberration due to alien influence. Philip J. Coulson’.”

“Regardless of her actions, which includes May throwing him off the cat walk?” Skye asks.

“What? Jasper, talk to me, what happened?”  May asks, but no one answers her. “Why is Phil on the hood of the truck?”

“Yes,” Simmons quietly answers Skye’s question. 

“Better person than I am,” Fitz tersely snaps.

-=-=

A still Phil Coulson lies on the hood of the SHIELD truck. His impact has cracked the window shield, bent the hood and...the team claims that she did that to him. No, no. Melinda May refuses to believe that she could do that, not to Coulson.

Melinda May pushes Fitz out of the way and she stabilizes Phil’s head just in case there are spinal issues. He’s got a caratoid pulse, his airway is clear, he’s breathing, his color’s good. He’s just stunned. That’s it, he’s just stunned. What was he doing on the catwalk? Phil dislikes heights.

“Coulson, talk to me,” she snaps.  “Come on, Phil. Talk to me. Where’s Ward? We’ll need him to move Coulson onto a back board.”

Coulson stirs, and he opens his eyes.  It takes him a minute, but he manages to focus on her. “Looks like I fell for you all over again,” Phil whispers. Coulson grimaces a smile, because he always believes that he’s funnier than he truly is.

She wishes she could slap him, but it’s probably not a good idea.  Not with how everyone looks at her.

“Just you stay with me,” Coulson’s ex-wife quietly insists. “Eyes on me, Coulson.”

And Jemma Simmons’ heart breaks when she realizes the strength of the bond between the two agents.

-=-

The temporarily alien incapacitated team members and Coulson spend several days at a SHIELD facility for observation.  Ward and May are only released after they agree to a strict protocol of monitoring their blood levels for possible relapses.  Oh, and that entire bit about Phil defending them to Fury.  Jemma Simmons is a good girl, and she brightly smiles when she draws a rather contrite Ward’s blood.  However, when she has to draw Melinda May’s blood, her hands shake. Her physical agitation draws May’s attention and the senior agent stops her from drawing her blood.

“Did I do something to you?” May softly questions. “During... Simmons, I’m truly sorry if I did anything or said anything.”

“All forgotten,” Jemma lies. “You weren’t in your right mind, obviously.”

And apparently neither was Jemma, because when Phil had talked to her after he had surgery on his broken ankle (courtesy of one ex-wife), Jemma just assured him that everything was fine. That May had only made a few snarky comments that had been rather pitiful.  Laughable. Easily brushed off.

It might have been the truth. If Coulson wasn’t so obvious in how he cossets May.  So many long conversations in his office.

 _You’re just a stupid school girl with a crush, Simmons.  It’s nothing serious for him_. _Do you honestly believe that Phil feels anything for you besides the fact that you’re an obviously easy lay?_

Simmons hears that and worse when she tries to sleep, when she meets May in the common area of the bus.

God, the first team meeting after recent events had been ridiculous. Coulson tries to make everything better.  He internally ‘reprimands’ Ward and May.  May has to cook for the team for three months, while Ward is responsible for cleaning the commons areas for three months. He offers them four months of KP duties if they fail his inspections.

Then he decides that the team needs some R&R, so they’re heading to Vancouver.

The final straw for Jemma snaps when Coulson asks May, “You like Vancouver, right?”

-=-

Phil Coulson juggles his crutches and his bum leg and manages to make it down the spiral stair case. That obstacle course completed without him falling ass over tit, he finds his way to Science.  Jemma stares through a microscope and he enters the room. He watches her for a bit and smiles because he enjoys watching her when she’s busy ‘sciencing’. He hides his smile when she looks away from the microscope and sees him.

“Hey,” he says. “Just came down to see if you might suggest anything for my leg. It itches.” Phil makes a face and Simmons doesn’t smile.

“There’s something I can suggest. Let me get it for you,” she offers.

He follows her to her office and he sits.

“I was wondering, May should have us on the ground in an hour or so.  Do you have any plans for your furlough? I know a really good hole in the wall spot. Great food. Interested?”  He offers it, hesitantly, as the dynamics have changed between them. He has noticed the change, but he hasn’t been brave enough to explore it.

She also never viewed his text message that he had sent just before getting his ass thrown off a catwalk by Melinda May. The text had included a credit for a download of Lou Reed’s “Perfect Day.”

_Oh, it's such a perfect day, I'm glad I spent it with you._

He should have asked, but he’s not sure if he wants confirmation that what had barely begun was over. 

Instead, he had focused on planning something nice for their furlough. Just for the two of them, as he loves Vancouver. He makes wonderful, delightful, romantic plans. In between his efforts to keep May stable, Ward from quitting the team, the dangerous duo of Sitwell and Skye from bonding anymore and...  Fortunately Fitz has been his usual reliable self. Had even submitted his fifteenth request for a monkey.

“There’s a French Film Festival also,” he adds. “You’re fluent in French? You’ll have to help me out.”

There’s no answering smile, no dimples and he nods his head in tired understanding.

“It’s over, isn’t it?” he asks. Really, he can’t blame her. When they had started whatever this had been between them, the rules had been simple.  Keep it quiet; keep it between the two of them so the team dynamics weren’t ruffled. After recent events, only the kindest of souls would claim that the team dynamics have been a-bombed back to the Stone Age. Truth was that the team was existing in that uneasy state just before the Big Bang. 

She nods her head even as she hands him something... for his itchy leg. It’s enough time to recover, so he puts on a fake smile. He squeezes her hand and says a very sincere, “Thank you.”

“Still friends?” She asks.

He leans towards her, and places a farewell kiss on her cheek.

“Door is always open for you,” he promises.

Coulson returns to his office and decides it’s perfectly acceptable to have a proper sulk.


	5. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ends my experimentation of Coulson/Simmons. Thank you for reading and not flaming. XOXOX Sel

Vancouver

Those people that believe that they know The Cavalry think that she takes her frustrations to the gym. The one person that truly comprehends Melinda May and who refuses to ever view her as the blasted Cavalry knows that she takes out her frustration out in the kitchen.

By cooking.

Hence, cooking duties for three months. 

And that baking, for Melinda May, was an act of contrition.

Ward, on the other hand, was a bit too serious, which is why Coulson gives him cleaning duties.  The team (Skye) duly presents Ward with a frilly apron and a feather duster.

Coulson goes to ground in his office, even though they had been in Vancouver for a few hours. Melinda May rolls her eyes in exasperation, checks the double chocolate chip cookies (with walnuts, Phil insists on walnuts), confirms that they were cool enough for delivery, pours some milk and goes to his office.

“I thought you had plans,” she says as she enters his office.  May knows all his plans for Vancouver as he had asked her for her input. He had desired to do something really nice for Simmons as a profound thank you for her willingness to put up with the insanity of the last few weeks. It had been crazy, and he had just been unable to talk to her for more than few minutes at a time, what with Fury, May and Ward. And while the two of them are divorced, he still values May’s opinion, even after everything.  “You’ll be late.”

“Plenty of wonderful plans. No one to go with me,” he admits.

“You and Simmons?”

He shakes his head.

“Have a cookie,” she instructs.  “Then tell me what happened.”

“It’s over,” he explains after a medicinal dose of two cookies and a quarter cup of milk. His demeanor is bleak, though he struggles to put a good face on, which means he had really connected with Simmons.  “Though since it hadn’t really begun, can it be classified as over?”

“Oh, Phil,” she whispers. She knows too well that since their divorce, there has only been Sara, the cellist and Jemma.  And his fling with Camilla Reyes, which a drunken Phil had admitted was just a booty call.

“I knew it wouldn’t last. I mean, she’s young, she’s brilliant and... I’m not either,” he struggles to smile. The failure hurts Melinda because Phil had been happy. For the first time since New York, he had possessed a little bit of the old Coulson swagger in his step, just because a younger girl’s crush. “Too much baggage.”

“Crazy ex-wife who tried to kill you twice,” Melinda adds.

Phil shakes his head.  “Not your fault. She needs someone younger, someone with a better hairline.”

“I’m sorry.” She is, because she is still quite fond of Coulson.

“Don’t apologize, May.  It was nice while it lasted. Really, really nice.” He admits.  “Best it’s a clean break.”

She looks at the time, and she makes a plan.  “You have more than enough time to change and make it to the art gallery.”  Melinda May also has enough time to kidnap Jemma Simmons, if necessary, and drop her off at the gallery.

He shakes his head.

“Moping doesn’t become you,” she snips. “You made the arrangements, so go.”

She refuses to leave until he agrees. For good measure, she picks out his tie.

* * *

 

Jemma Simmons decides not to tag along with Skye and her boy toys.  Of the four, only Fitz knows that she’s decided to end...no... her relationship with Coulson has ended.  He gives her a sad smile and a fierce, “He wasn’t good enough for you anyway.”

Dear, sweet Fitz.

She promises to head out with Skye and the guys tomorrow, but claims that she desires a chance to take a long soak in a proper bathroom and a nice lie in a king size bed. One good thing about Coulson, when he puts his agents up in a hotel, he doesn’t skimp. No sharing of rooms, no twin size bed if it’s at all possible.  She pampers herself and after a long soak, she wraps herself in a fluffy bath robe and walks out of the bathroom to discover....

Melina bloody May, who has rummaged through her closet and has put several outfits on her bed. Several of which had been left on the Bus.

“I’m assuming your pen is secured and it’s safe,” May dryly announces.

In response, Jemma wraps the robe tighter around her.

“Why are you here?” Jemma asks. Her voice squeaks, it shames her to admit.

“Phil,” May says. Jemma reacts and May shakes her head. “Still got it bad for him, don’t you? That’s good, because he is moping right now. Why’d you decide to end it then?”

“Mutual decision,” Jemma responds.

“It was you,” May decides.”Your eyebrows gave it away. Sitwell’s right, you can’t lie at all. Why?”

“Why do you care?” Jemma asks.  “I’ve decided that it won’t work, so I ended it.”

“Because Phil’s unhappy.” May not very patiently explains.  “You made Phil happy, now he’s not. So, pick an outfit, I need to get you to your date with Phil.”

A very confused Jemma Simmons just stares at Melinda May, who stares back.

“Phil had planned a very nice evening for you. I don’t think he’s canceled it... so pick an outfit,” repeats Melinda.

“You’re awful chatty,” Jemma interrupts. “Awfully keen to have me embarrass myself by throwing myself at an older man who isn’t interested.”

May gives her the stink eye and Jemma protests, “Come on, May. Phil’s still hung up on you, and I decided I didn’t want to be second best. As you told me, repeatedly, I’m just a silly school girl and he’s got vastly more cosmopolitan tastes. I may be insipid ...trite and yes, he probably laughs at what an utterly lame fuck I am... but I have my pride. And I may have two bloody PhDs; I’m not a bloody idiot if I think I can compare to the fucking Cavalry.”

She’s scriking like a mad arse, sniffling so hard she probably has a bogey hanging from her nose, because that would be the final embarrassment.

Melinda May continues to stare at her and then walks over to the mini bar. She breaks the seal and rummages. She finds something, pops the lid and hands it to Simmons.

“Drink it,” she orders, before Melinda May collapses in a chair. “It seems that you’re a better liar then I credited you. I am assuming that I said these things to you when I.... “

Simmons nods while she dutifully drinks. Meanwhile Mays sighs and her face changes in something that looks like uncertainty.

“I asked you if I said anything and you assured me that it was all forgotten,” Melinda protests. “Jemma, there is no possibility of Phil and I getting back together.  After what happened, how our marriage imploded. We’re just been through a lot together and ...”

Melinda stops talking and when she finally starts talking again her voice is rather soft, “You have to understand something about Phil.  Emotionally, he’s a doer, not a talker. He had planned a really nice evening to thank you for tolerating him while he dealt the ramifications of my instability.”

“And how do you know that?” protests Jemma.

The Cavalry looks uncertain, “He asked my opinion on a few things.”

“Christ,” spits Jemma.

“He wanted it to be perfect,” May explains. “His idea of romance is one of his more redeeming characteristics but he wanted a female opinion on his plans. Simmons... Jemma... he knew that you had a crush on him.”

“Oh God, you knew?” Jemma protests. “How can it get worse?”

“It put a bounce in his step. After New York, he really was down because Sara was told that he died. Phil  had never contacted her because he couldn’t rip her wound open.  Your crush meant a lot to him and he was happy.” Melinda May then turns quite serious. “So if you think I’m standing by and letting you break Phil Coulson’s heart again because you’re needlessly jealous, you’re dead wrong. Pen or no pen. Now, fix your face and get dressed.”

The two women look at each other. Jemma smiles when she realizes that they’ve formed a tentative bond over their mutual respect and affection for the exasperating Phil Coulson.

 “Yes, Ma’am,” Jemma agrees. “Where am I going?”

“Art Gallery. There’s a benefit, so there will be food and drinks.”

“What color does he prefer?” Jemma asks.

Melinda points at a dress that she had swiped from the Bus. “That one. Wear some spiky heels and plus put your hair in a messy updo,” decides Melinda.

* * *

 

Melinda drives her to the art gallery, and instructs her to just give her name at the entrance. “They’ll let you in.”

Simmons puts her hand on the car door handle and Melinda speaks again, “If asked, I will deny all knowledge of this covert operation.”

“No one would believe me anyway,” Jemma retorts.

 Melinda gives her a disapproving frown but her eyes dance in amusement.

“Except for Phil, as he knows the best of you,” adds Jemma.

“Get. Go. Outta the car,” sternly orders The Cavalry.

Jemma Simmons gains easy entrance to the art gallery and she locates Coulson who is sitting next to a statue of modern art. Fortunately, a waiter appears as if by magic and Jemma grabs two glasses of wine.   That done, she approaches her victim.

“Pardon me, is anyone sitting here?” She asks Phil. Coulson turns to face her.  He smiles while he struggles to stand with his crutches.

“Sit down,” she orders even as she hands him a drink.  “You need to explain this piece to me.”

“No idea,” he admits. “I don’t have the faintest idea what the artist is trying to say.”

They stare at it in silence and Jemma finally speaks, “I think it’s saying that someone was an idiot besides being a jealous prat.”

“I think it’s saying someone should have made a bigger effort so someone didn’t feel neglected.”

They clink their wine glasses and all is right in the world.

 


End file.
